Meatballs
by smoya
Summary: Crocodile leaves a local restaurant unsatisfied, and Doflamingo takes notice, inviting him to try his own culinary treat and hospitality. It takes a lot of persuasion and strings, though. Rated M for the upcoming 3rd chapter; Yaoi, Doflacroc/Cromingo
1. Chapter 1

Crocodile did not look up as the meatball chunked past his ear, causing the ring that pierced its lobe to whistle. His cigar, though, suffered a severe crunch from the croc's canines that clenched as the scent of hot marinara containing too much oregano wafted up his nostrils, and the cigar fell from his lips before it even met a flame. He spat out the portion that remained behind his teeth, and withdrew another from inside his coat. The cigar merely touched his lips before another meatball struck it from his fingers.

The man turned a furrowed brow to the source of attack, his sad eyeballs following it. They rest on a poorly-hidden, pink-feathered man in the alley of the restaurant out of which Crocodile had stepped.

"Fufufufu- you shouldn't waste so much food, there, Crocodile!" laughed Doflamingo. He slurped a meatball off of the plate of Crocodile's uneaten spaghetti he held at eye level, and swallowed it whole. Shortly after, his grin turned into a gag, and he discarded the plate of pasta in a loud crack against the nearest wall.

Crocodile did not respond.

When Doflamingo, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, waddled up to Crocodile's shoulder, the latter turned his gaze back to lighting a cigar.

"Oi, Croco- allow me to cook you a meal, eh? Fufufufufu- one that will satisfy your refined palate."

Crocodile curled his lip, exhaling through gritted teeth the first puff of smoke he had managed since the assault of meatballs.

"I insist," Doflamingo hissed through the cloud of Crocodile's smoke.

"I don't fraternize with birds," Crocodile said coolly and pulled his cigar from his lips to gaze at it gratefully.

"Fufufufufu! Careful, there, Crocodile!" he bellowed, "I'm a bird of prey." Doflamingo bent his long neck lower to meet Crocodile's gaze. "What do you say?" He tilted an ear towards him, awaiting a favorable answer.

"What," Crocodile mused, "is on the menu, pray tell?"

"Great!" Doflamingo threw out his feathered arms to full wingspan before bowing with one open hand outstretched. "Right this way!"

Crocodile's eyes rolled as he put his attention back on the cigar. "I said, 'what is on the menu,' bird?"

"Not important." Doflamingo plucked the cigar from the grey lips that emitted a growl, which rather turned into a bark when Crocodile snapped, "Don't fool around with me, insolent bird!"

Doflamingo was already a block away.

"Idiot." Crocodile inhaled calmly through tense nostrils and reached into his coat for yet another cigar- which wasn't there. The pink man had cleaned him out.

Crocodile swirled into solidity in front of Doflamingo now 6 blocks further. The latter man skirted to a halt before him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Finally! Glad you could join me," Doflamingo chuckled. "Quick learner, you."

Crocodile made a go at the cigar but Doflamingo jerked it out of his reach and flicked a finger under the sandman's chin. "Don't spoil your appetite, Croco~chan." Crocodile recoiled from the man's touch but lunged again for the still-burning cigar. He snatched it this time, but Doflamingo looped a long arm around his waist and slung him over his broad shoulder. Continuing on his stroll, Doflamingo laughed as he felt Crocodile attempt to counter his binding strings. The sandman had no choice but to watch the cigar in his own hand smolder from a distance. The birdman's waddling gait swung Crocodile from side to side, loosening strands of hair to fall into his face, and accumulations of ash to crumble from the neglected cigar. It was merely a stump by the time Doflamingo slowed his trot, nearing a tall, cast iron gate. Immediately upon feeling Doflamingo release control of his limbs, Crocodile swirled into sand, reforming behind the man, and not without ashing the stump of tobacco into the pink feathers. Doflamingo did not seem to notice.

"Welcome to my home! Fufufu- one of them," Doflamingo clucked. The massive gate opened to a small, fenced, and barren yard of grey dirt surrounding a faded two-story brick structure that stood alone, far from the other rowhouses on the block. Crocodile smoothed his loose hair strands back into place. He scoffed.

"What are you trying to pull, Doflamingo? Even scum like you wouldn't live in such a shack."

"Thank you, Crocy! I'm flattered!" Doflamingo cooed, "Just wait til you see the dining room!" He gave Crocodile a rough shove in the lower back that hurled the man forward and for that, he spun around and mashed the cigar butt into the pink coat, singeing several feathers on the sleeve.

"OI, CROCO, HAVE SOME MANNERS." Doflamingo strung up Crocodile's limbs again and walked him up to the building and through the doorway. Three surveillance snails were sliding along the façade and appeared to snicker at the sandman as the two passed below their spying eyes.

Inside, a short hallway cluttered with hat racks, umbrella stands, and more surveillance snails led to a single door opposite them. Crouching beneath the low ceiling, Doflamingo opened it and motioned for Crocodile to enter, which he did, on his own. A staircase descended immediately past the doorway, and below, he could see a warm light flickering over a tiled floor. A servant awaited them at the bottom of the stairs and offered to take Crocodile's coat, to which he declined. Doflamingo tossed his own coat at a bench that framed the bottom edge of an enormous, Doflamingo-sized mirror in the foyer. Crocodile scoffed and reached for a cigar before remembering that he had none. A low growl escaped from his stomach.

"It won't be long!" Doflamingo replied. "Make yourself at home. Fufufufufufu!" He exited the large hallway with a flourish. Crocodile cocked an eyebrow at the servant struggling to lift Doflamingo's massive coat and wondered what other monstrosities awaited.


	2. Chapter 2

"Like what you see? There's plenty," Doflamingo chuckled. A vast array of sweet peppers, greens, and seared vegetables surrounded a platter of three fowl with honey-glazed, browned skin.

Crocodile had to hand it to him. The meat of Doflamingo's roast fowl pulled apart beautifully and melted on his tongue. Crocodile inwardly stewed over how to thank the man for dinner without complimenting him. Meanwhile, Doflamingo watched him, chewing with chin raised, sly grin still plastered on his face. With each bite, he clinked his teeth on the tines of his fork, breaking the silence and making Crocodile want to thank him less and less.

Crocodile sat rigidly and stabbed a chunk of the meat, but paused. He leaned forward to inspect the morsel. Doflamingo registered the hesitation and stopped chewing, cocked an eyebrow and squinted down his nose at the plate as well.

"One of your feathers got into the food," Crocodile smirked and raised his forkful containing the pink feather up to eye level.

Doflamingo leaned back into his chair. "Fufufufufufu- that's not mine, it's the bird's. I must have missed it while plucking. My apologies! Fufufufufu!

"You cooked a flamingo?" Crocodile spat. He pulled the feather off of the fork.

"Where did you think I acquire my coats?"

"A party supply store."

"These feathers are real!"

"Really idiotic."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"But you like the food?"

"It's fine." Crocodile stabbed the flesh on his plate.

"How does that feel?" Doflamingo asked.

"How does what feel?" snapped Crocodile.

"Complimenting me."

"Bite me," spat Crocodile as he placed his last morsel on his tongue. Doflamingo tossed his arms behind his head, laughing deeply.

"Alright, our next dinner date can feature croc-kabobs if you like. Fufufufufufu!"

"What makes you think that I want to return for a repeat of this charade of yours?" Crocodile sneered.

"No need to pretend you're not dreadfully lonely, fufufufu-" Doflamingo clucked. "You need the company. That's why you will come back for another meal."

Crocodile blinked but quickly narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, please, you're starving for attention. And a perfectly prepared meal is a nice bonus, don't you think? Both of which, I can give you- fufufufufufu!"

"If a critique of your cooking is what you want-"

"Are you compensating for something with that hook?" Doflamingo taunted.

"Yes, a _HAND_," Crocodile stated flatly. "Idiot."

"No matter! You're finished! Let me show you around the place now," he beckoned to Crocodile. He kicked back his chair and made to pull out the other man's as well, but Crocodile raised his hook at him and left the chair himself. "Fufufufufu- right, this way. First stop, the library," Doflamingo sang. "I hope you're a wine drinker. Fufufufufu!"

In the library, two glasses and the wine bottle sat waiting on a massive desk. Doflamingo poured and scooped them up, holding one out to Crocodile while taking the first sip of his own. He perched on the edge of the desk when Crocodile gave him a skeptical look, returning no more than his broadest grin. Crocodile received the glass with a sharp clack against his rings. He passed it beneath his nose for a beat before tentatively sipping it. _Not bad. _Crocodile inhaled its aroma again. Doflamingo eyed him closely as the heat trickled down Crocodile's throat once more. Doflamingo beamed.

"That's powerful," Crocodile said, swirling the liquid in his glass. He tipped the remainder into his mouth at once. He made to set it back on the desk, but Doflamingo kept the bottle poised in his hand, and artfully refilled Crocodile's glass before the man had a chance to relinquish it. He raised his eyes to Doflamingo's, whose tongue escaped the confines of his teeth as he grinned with an open mouth.

"For powerful men," Doflamingo chuckled. He downed his own glass and refilled it as well.

The comment struck Crocodile as odd, as he had himself been coerced into joining Doflamingo for this equally odd dinner party for two. He could not tell what tone was intended, but bet that it was provoking in nature. He did not like that which a potential debate on theories of power might entail.

"Sit?" Doflamingo grinned. Crocodile turned to survey the seating arrangement. He opted for the broad velvet couch with clawed feet that bordered a massive coffee table whose surface showed a yellowing world map. In the middle of one sea sat a porcelain ashtray.

Crocodile set his glass on the map table as he took his seat. "You don't smoke, Doflamingo."

Doflamingo chuckled and bent down to pull open a slim drawer at the end of the table, removing a decorative wooden box and handed it to Crocodile. Crocodile surveyed it and slid the top panel open to reveal some beautiful cigars. He raised his eyebrows to Doflamingo, who responded, "Please, have one."

Crocodile moved with haste, retrieved his cutter from his coat, cut the end, and had the cigar in his teeth in an instant. He felt his pockets for matches, and, upon finding them, had the cigar lit and puffing in no time. He propped one leg up on the other knee and exhaled in relief.

"Where," he mused, in between puffs, as a broad grin spread across his face, "did you get these?"

"Fufufu- a smokeshop in Dressrosa. I thought you'd like them."

"Indeed, I must say I do," he said, elated, "I must visit this shop myself! What's the name of it?" He tapped some ash into the tray on the map and continued to puff fondly.

Doflamingo beamed. "It didn't have a sign; only _ENTER_ scrawled on the door in chalk, fufufufu. The ceiling was very low." He rubbed the top of his head.

Crocodile laughed. "Are you going to have one?"

"I don't smoke," he replied, still beaming.

Crocodile raised his eyebrows coolly. "Ha- then what were you doing in a smoke shop?" He paused, watching Doflamingo roll his fingertips against each other. "Unbelievable," he said, smugly, "you bought them _just _for me?"

"So you're impressed?" Doflamingo ventured.

Crocodile laughed. "Unbelievable! -that you'd have the sense to choose quality tobacco." He added, "Why?"

"A gift," Doflamingo trailed, his toothy grin shrinking to a lightly amused one.

"Mm. Thoughtful of you. Or lucky, more likely," Crocodile said with a winsome but cautious smile. "Thank you." He looked away quickly and busied himself with alternating between the cigar and his wine glass with his one hand.

Doflamingo nodded lightly with a knowing grin. He lifted his own glass to his lips, but reconsidered and raised it in toast. "Cheers, Croco," he boasted, awaiting his companion's response. Crocodile grimaced slightly at the nickname, but followed suit.

"Cheers," he said in a low tone, and downed the remains of his drink.

Doflamingo rose from his chair and walked back to the desk. Crocodile eyed his sauntering gait, watched the man remove another bottle from a drawer, hold it up to the lamp light on the desk. The warm light poured over a chiseled abdomen inside his open shirt. Crocodile's eyes followed the broad, tan chest, up past the deep collarbone and muscular neck to his flashing teeth, to find that the man was no longer inspecting the label, but appeared to return his gaze. Crocodile jerked his head away to focus on the table in front of him, feeling suddenly as though he was the bird's prey. Doflamingo's figure loomed, even from across the room, for several more seconds before moving again.

Uncorking the bottle with lithe fingers, he planted himself on the other end of Crocodile's long couch and scooped up the man's glass to refill it in one swift motion. "This one's from Skypeia. Try it."


End file.
